Powerless
by Innoverse
Summary: MOA SPOILERS. Annabeth can't sleep. The nightmares follow her every night, attacking her in her sleep and taking what should be a peaceful release. And every night, Percy watches her struggle with the memories, unable to provide any sort of of solace. He can't be completely powerless, can he? Percy's POV. K plus for angst. Percabeth, fluffy and angsty.


_**MOA SPOILERS BEYOND THIS POINT. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.**_

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**Hi, it's Rachel! Here's some angsty Percabeth fluff, since I haven't written angst in a while (or so it feels). This was born while I was listening to the song 'Powerless' by Linkin Park (the song snippet below, by the way), and I thought of Percabeth and Tartarus. This is kind of similar to my other story, 'Phobia' except it's not focused on a particular dream and it's mostly centered around Annabeth. In short, it's different, but stills deals with the post-traumatic-stress of the Tartarus thing. So if you like this, I recommend checking my other one out. /shamelessselfpromotion**

**But anyways, I hope you enjoy this!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own PJATO or the song snippet.**

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_**- Powerless: Percy's POV -**_

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_~ And you held it all_

_But you were careless to let it fall_

_You held it all_

_And I was by your side_

_Powerless ~_

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The nightmares hit Annabeth in waves every night—they flocked to her mind and ravaged her sleep. They turned something restful and rejuvenating into a hell, and took her peace of mind. They reminded her of things she would rather forget, put images in her head she wishes she could unsee, made her hear the sounds of pain and hopelessness and despair. Every night, she relived Tartarus, and suffered through the ordeal again, her mind in permanent pain, wondering where the release was.

Every night, she suffered.

And every night, he watched.

He kept her close at night—holding her in her sleep as tears squeezed from her eyes, whispering reassurances he knew she couldn't hear. At first, he'd hoped that his presence might alleviate her of the nightmares she'd told him about, that it was just a temporary thing, a brief display of post traumatic stress. But even when she began to crawl into his bed every night, they didn't disappear. He'd tried to wake her, but it was a losing battle. Her brain wouldn't release her until it was done.

He didn't know why, but the stress and memories of Tartarus hit Annabeth harder than they hit Percy. He had some of the same difficulties—the times in the day when he would just have to stop and breathe for a moment and try to collect himself for no reason at all—but they were nowhere near what Annabeth experienced during the night hours. It was horrible to watch, and pained him every night when he had to watch her struggle through her dreams, and then see her in the morning—ashen faced and quiet.

He'd never felt so powerless before.

There was no help he could give her, no comfort or remedy. She would always have the same heartbroken expression when she woke, and would always, _always_ apologize for waking him. And he would say the same thing every night, and always, _always_ pull her into a secure hug under the blankets.

_I don't care, Annabeth. I don't care._

As more and more nearly sleepless nights piled on top of her, the dark circles became more prominent. She looked tired, and began to look a little run down. And Percy could do nothing. He felt miserable, watching her become a little more worn every day, and knowing that she would crack eventually, but not knowing how to stop it.

And she did crack.

The night came that she refused to sleep. She sat up on the couch, watching the TV flicker into the early hours of the morning, not registering the images but only seeming to stare straight through the screen. Percy had tried to convince her to come and sleep, but she hadn't even registered that she'd acknowledged his presence. This went on for two days, until she became so tired that sleep was inevitable.

And so she crawled under the covers with him, and the nightmares came again, and he could do nothing but hold her, wipe her tears away, and hope for the best. The ritual began again. The nightmares, the tears, then the apologies, the 'I don't cares', and finally the hugs. Every night, every night. Percy could think of nothing else to do.

He needed to give her a night of peace. He needed to find a way to rest her mind.

One night—having exhausted all of his other ideas—he loaded an over-tired Annabeth into his car, and they began to drive up Long Island. She didn't ask questions, but trusted him blindly, knowing that whatever he had in mind was only because he wanted to give her a night of sanity.

They pulled up onto his favorite beach in Montauk, and he led her past the rental cabin his mother had often shared with him when he was younger. They walked up to the beach, and he spread a thin blanket over the sand, and they sat, listening to the soft crash of waves hitting the shore and the lull of the critters that squirmed around at night.

Annabeth had fallen asleep in his lap, and for the first night since the ordeal, had slept without dreams. He'd sat there all night, stroking her hair, and marveling at how peaceful her features looked in the moonlight now that she was finally resting properly. It had been worth it—even if he was tired for the rest of the day after staying up all night—because the following day, Annabeth had been happier than she had in what seemed like ages.

After that, the dreams slowed. They only came periodically, and Percy managed to make her comfortable when they did. After a couple more nights spent at the beach, they stopped completely. She no longer lived in fear of sleep, and their days became much happier and more devoted to each other, rather than the pursuit of rest.

"I wish I would've remembered it earlier," Annabeth mentioned to him one day as they sat on the couch, watching late-night television. A commercial featuring a couple walking on the beach scrolled past them.

"Remembered what?" he asked.

"The beach," Annabeth said, settling into his shoulder. "I used to spend nights sleeping there when you were missing. It helped me sleep then, too."

"Why do you think it helps?" he mumbled.

She shrugged slightly. "I don't know. Ever since I met you, the ocean has become very comforting."

He smiled a little. "What a coincidence."

"Yeah," she murmured. "A coincidence."

Maybe Percy had never been as powerless as he had felt.

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**Angsty beginning, sweet ending. :) I love Percabeth so much. They're so adorable... I simply cannot express my love for this couple enough. I really hope Uncle Rick doesn't kill them off and they can grow up and have beautiful fictional children together. I just... I cannot... *whale noises***

**Anyways, I hope you liked reading this. Reviews are always appreciated. I promise, I read every single one. They come right to my email. :)**


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